[Philosophy + Sci-Fi + Transmigration + Mystery]
In 2077, mechanic Lin Xia points the reverse-entropy welding torch her father left behind at a rusted bronze cauldron. The cracks across its body form a tangible Mobius strip, and the luminous blue fluid seeping from them resonates with the infinity-shaped scar on her forearm. The 37% of human genes classified as “defective” are the only key to cracking the “Bronze Sophon Purge Protocol.”
As strawberry-scented antifreeze drips from the torch’s tip, her father’s seventh warning before he vanished, the silhouette of the Forbidden City’s corner tower appears in the cauldron. This is no projection of history, but the physical manifestation of a quantum server, its sixty-four hexagrams growing into the shape of neurons. Golden blood seeps from the back of her partner Lu Yunci’s bronze prosthetic neck. His memories have long since been replaced with scenes of Western Zhou sacrifices, while the wedding ring her father left on his wrist is dragging his genetic telomeres toward quantum collapse.
The truth is as cruel as the hexagrams melting across the cauldron: the reverse-entropy arsenal is an illogical weapon forged from the defect rate, and Lin Xia’s scar is its biological safety catch. When she finds her father’s final engraving inside the cauldron, a strawberry doodle from her childhood embedded in a half-melted “Oppression” hexagram, the Sophon fleet’s gravitational waves have already folded Beijing into a colossal bronze cauldron.
The torch’s blue glow overlaps the Sophons’ golden light across Lin Xia’s retinas. She must choose: use the 37% of “defective” genes to weld civilization’s cracks shut, or let her genes resonate with Lu Yunci’s prosthetic body at the blinding flash of a spacetime weld point, gambling on humanity’s thirty-seventh possibility. The price may be the torch burning through her heart, leaving strawberry-colored blood forever congealed on the opening page of the quantum covenant.
